Maybells
by Shiroi Iyasu
Summary: She sings to her crystal cage, wanting to feel brave but cannot - the dream is too real, much like how reality can possibly be a memory of her desires. ::post-game::


AND I HAVE MIRACULOUSLY WRITTEN SOMETHING AFTER GOD KNOWS HOW LONG.

Anyone want to have a go in figuring out what this is supposed to be? Because I certainly can't tell what this is. Maybe it's some sort of character study or something... I just wrote this out of a whim, and kind of because I felt like writing some Tales nonsense.

Meeeeeeh enjoy, I guess.

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"Follow every star in the sky, and maybe dreams can never end."

_-let me trade this glass heart for the world-_

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Midnight starts and the marigolds bursts - those golden flowers droop and wilt and then follow the force of gravity until she wakes up in the middle of the night, a blunt ring in her ears and some strange thump of shock coursing through her heart as she forces herself upward from her cold, artificial bed of silk blankets and fine diamond cushions. Somewhere a little ahead, laid out on the dusty-red carpeting with cross-heart stitching and graded wolf fur were fragments of white, wet porcelain.

_Oh_, the blonde thinks to herself absently, bending down a little to inspect the damage. Solid snow crystals and triangular shards were thrown about in these indefinite shapes, with wintery water slowly spreading across the cream-colored marble of the floor. But what catches her attention are none of them as she tilts her head and silently observes the rotten plants. Their petals have come loose, a few scattered about as the flowers lay in a dirty-looking pile unfitting of a noble man's guest room.

She blinks - the gaps of the damp carpet below the thin, olive stalks create strange shapes. Squares, kites, rectangles; _oh, the same seamless wonder!_ - and then comes to her senses. Two hands, pale from being gloved for most of the day, rub the rest of the sleep out of her eyes as she gets up and hurriedly pulls open the thin, sunset-orange curtains. Moonlight seeps in like the sea.

Colette gathers the broken vase pieces, collecting them into a neat pile upon an oak-wood table where the vase itself, designed with exotic symbols of water and wind decorations, once sat. A second later, which is not too long after, she sets the wilting flowers beside them and quietly proceeds to leave the room. Down the hall, the last room to her left - she knocks lightly and speaks politely to its possibly sleeping resident, and when she receives nothing, she is begins to move on to someone else like maybe Genis. And then the door opens.

-she cringes at the horrid, notable stench of alcohol coming from the noble man's very self. But she says nothing, mentions nothing, and simply requests where Sebastian is. Zelos fixes a half-crooked smirk, arrogant and messy all the same, and explains in a carefree manner than the butler had likely tended to whatever she needed and never answers her properly. She thanks him, nevertheless - _anything for you, sweetheart,_ the red-head winks before closing the door in her face in a loud and rather abrupt manner.

Rudeness hardly ever comes to mind. For those precious two minutes that she remains to listen to his fragmented secrets and sharp tirades aimed only at himself, her thoughts are all of pity and nothing more. She does not consider any ideas - _wishes_, she describes them sincerely, _only my wishes and never such_ - that would involve comforting him, because she feels that there is no place for her distant presence. If there was such a beloved spot in his heart and memories, then she had missed her chance.

-not that she is very disappointed to have lost any. She had never been good at digging for miracles in the flower beds, only able to pray and hope - to keep wishing for an innocent and simple thing.

But to wish is to be selfish, and that was a sin. She cannot wish too much.

With a gloomy sense of defeat, the Chosen returns to her given room, suspiciously finding the vase pieces and flowers missing. Had the noble been serious? She does not know, and cannot understand either. She muses in an unnecessary, idle sense, and it is then that she finds specks of black crawling across the floor, going after the flower petals that had yet to be swept. Ants. She is puzzled by their foreign appearance - _where have they come from?_

She questions herself and the unspeaking air, blinking curiously at the bitter-scarlet rose petals that the ants were slowly picking up and dragging away, one at a time - and then, Colette comes to her senses.

_Oh_, she says absently, as the day ends and the nightmares return in vivid memory.

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**..**

"Your limitations will create a starless aurora, so desire tomorrow and await the dawn."

_-we can fly higher than any heaven and god-_

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Eeeeeeh... I've never the played the game, per-say, if any experts or anyone can obviously tell. So I'm just making up my impression of whatever the heck Zelos' mansion is supposed to look like. That's probably the only bad point about this thing that I will readily admit is not the best of things in this story to realise.

Okay, random story time: the thing about the ants actually comes from some thing that happened once. I had brought in a bunch of marigolds in a bouquet, which would be a gift to someone that our family knew well, and had kept them near the front door - which was nicely locked and thus it was impossible to let in insects unless it was just plain wide and open - before tending to some other things. When I came back for them, I found ants crawling around it and climbing up the flowers and all. God knows how they came into our house, but I pretty much dislike those plants now. Silly reasoning, but I am just not fond of them.

Anyway, flames are unnecessary.

~Shiroi


End file.
